


Hold It

by ritsuko



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Cock Warming, HYDRA Trash Party, Humiliation, M/M, Orders, Poor Bucky, Power Play, Submission, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/pseuds/ritsuko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long transit home and no one to talk to. Surely Brock can find another use for the Winter Soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abbeyjewel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbeyjewel/gifts).



> Happy late birthday to my darling Abbeyjewel~ 
> 
> Hail. HYDRA. <3

It starts out as a joke. They're in the back of a truck in the middle of Siberia in the middle of fucking January and it's FUCKING FREEZING. The transit is slipping all over the place and he has to hold onto a bar to keep from being slammed into the other side. But the Winter Soldier, he just sits there, muscles taut, straining so he doesn't move an inch as the truck rocks to and fro.

Brock snorts. Perfect fucking soldier. He'd watched him shoot twelve men in the span of half as many seconds. He's be awed if he wasn't so jealous. 

The soldier stares at the floor, seemingly at nothing, and Brock rolls his eyes, sitting back. At least they could have sent Rollins on this mission, kept him from being so fucking bored. There was at least six more hours until they got back to the safe house. Six more hours of fucking cold and silence.

But the Winter Soldier. . . nothing phased him. He took every order efficiently and waited for the next. Brock would have never believed just how docile that the man could be until he had watched him fulfill order after order, from slaughtering innocents to retrieving herbal tea for Pierce. To things a lot more seedy and disparaging. . .

It had always been a whispered joke within the walls of HYDRA, that the Winter Soldier would do anything that he was ordered. Crawl on his hands and knees and bark like a dog. Go for hours without relieving himself and never complain. Even lick your boots, if you were high enough up in the ranks.

But the best rumour wasn't even a rumour, that the brunette was the best kept secret when it came to relieving tension.

He would have never believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. But people got away with it all the time. At least they did if they were discreet. Or one of the techs. . . or Pierce. He'd walked into questionable shit all the time with that one. 

Brock watches the brunette for a long time, and it doesn't take him long to work up the courage. Hell, who will even know? There's a partition between them and the driver anyway. 

"Come here."

For a moment, the soldier doesn't budge, obviously having shut down from a successful mission. Rumlow bites his lip. Should he repeat himself, or discipline the asset?

But then that hollow gaze rises, steely blue eyes meeting his. Despite the rocking of the truck, the soldier rises and walks the two steps over, balancing hard on the balls of his feet in front of him. 

"Kneel."

Something flashes behind those grey eyes, as he sinks to his knees. Brock spreads his legs apart to make room for the other man. That gaze never leaves his face as he sits and waits. Rumlow leers at him. 

"I'm cold." He states, and the other man just stares at him. Of course the soldier doesn't say anything, he still has his mask on. Brock's not sure it the other man would even try to make small talk. He probably hasn't ever been programmed for it. 

No one's probably ever tried.

"Take off your mask."

Slowly, the Winter Soldier complies. He looks wary of the idea, perhaps his speed can be compared by how little he wants to comply. But he does, revealing two days worth of stubble and plush lips. A grin tugs at the corner of Brock's mouth. Very nice indeed.

All he wants now is to hear him speak. It's such a rarity to have him unmuzzled.

But the soldier just kneels, awaiting orders and watching. 

Brock sighs. Stupid to think he would get anything out of Pierce's trained pet. The idiot didn't even piss on his own accord.

Still, he has him right where he wants him. 

With no restraint, he reaches down and unzips his fly. Something crosses the other man's face, but if it's dissent, he doesn't voice it. There's a moment where Brock thinks this is the craziest fucking idea he's ever had, but the thought that he might actually get away with it outweighs the possibility that the worst might happen.

He tugs his cock out into the cold, and it hangs, soft in front of the asset. Those steely blue eyes stare up at him, darkness tinging them. 

"Well? Put it in your mouth."

There's a half second, and Brock is sure that the look that crosses the soldier's face is half anger and half humiliation. He leans forward, hot breath misting over Rumlow's dick, and then suddenly he's in his mouth and it's like a dream.

The soldier's tongue flicks at the veins on the underside of his cock, and Rumlow shudders. He could let the other man blow him, but that would take away half the fun.

He tugs on the asset's hair, and the other man looks up into his eyes. "I didn't say suck me off. I said put it in your mouth. Keep it warm. No teeth. Just stay there and enjoy the ride." He supposes that he needn't have said all of those things, but it's better to be safe than sorry. At least with guidelines, the soldier knows what he isn't allowed to do.

Resolutely, the other man widens his jaw, taking him to the root. Brock grunts in appreciation. The assets mouth is hot and warm, tight but not too tight. He smirks down, noting how those eyes watch him, fighting between maintaining a hollow expression, and a baleful one.

With a chuckle, Brock leans his head back. He knows that the other man won't move an inch. Might as well get a little shut eye.

He comes to later, not knowing if it's been minutes or hours, though, by the look of the soldier, it has been quite awhile. That warmth hasn't diminished around his cock, and those eyes still glisten up at him. Brock yawns, stretching his arms above his head, and the soldier moves with him when he moves slightly. 

The truck is still rocking back and forth slightly, and Rumlow rubs absently at his eyes. Just beyond the canvas flaps, he can tell that it's gotten light out. They've driven all night.

With a grimace, he realizes that it's been just long enough that he has to piss. He raises his hand to knock on the cab partition, but then his hand falls as he considers. His eyes flick down and he catches those eyes searching his face, warily. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Brock licks his lips. The asset hasn't moved, it's evidenced by the dried lines of drool that have eked from the sides of his mouth. It's a horrible thought, but dammit, he wants to. Show this fucking pretty boy whose in control, put him in his place. Show him no matter how badly he's needed, he is still nothing.

"Listen. You're gonna swallow everything I give you." He orders, and the other man's eyes go dark. "You don't let one drop leak out. If you do, you'll be punished."

The brunette doesn't move, doesn't even blink. But ever so subtly, he can feel the muscles in the other man's jaw tense. He wonders if he's pushed too far.

But then it doesn't matter. He's pissing into that heat, and it's enough to make him groan. The asset's throat convulses around him, drinking up the bitter fluid. His eyes clench closed, nose wrinkled in distaste. Brock doesn't think he's ever seen anything so fucking erotic in his life. Someone so submissive that they do everything without hesitation. A perfect soldier.

In that moment, he thanks his lucky stars that -this- isn't anything that HYDRA has ever requested of him.

He also thanks them that he gets to reap the benefits.

He manages to piss a solid thirty seconds before the stream tapers off. Delighting in the way the brunette's Adam's apple bobs as he drinks down his urine. By the time he has swallowed every last drop, he is breathing hard through his nose. The thought that he has marked the soldier in such away is intoxicating. 

But then those eyes open, watering and glaring up at him. He doesn't dare to do anything, just watch and await the next order. Brock just leans back, amused that the other man can't fight back, can only sit and hold his cock in his mouth. 

He dozes again, only to be awoken later by the transit lurching to a stop. Looking down, he can tell that the position is taking a toll on the asset, and there is something else across his face. Some kind of veiled desperation. He seems to be concentrating, eyes lidded and lips slightly pursed.

A knock comes from the other side of the partition. "Five minutes if you gotta piss." Then he hears the driver exit the cab.

Brock leans back, closing his eyes again. No need for any of that.

The asset makes a noise in the back of his throat and Rumlow nearly jumps out of his skin as it reverberates through his cock. Sharply, he looks down on the other man, noting the pleading look in his eye. 

"Is there a problem?"

The brunette stares at him, as if trying to convey some message. Normally, it would be annoying, but it's kind of amusing. He hasn't been ordered to release his dick, so there is no way that he can say what is wrong.

Rumlow has an idea though.

"You need to go to the bathroom?"

Several harsh blinks, confirm, and Brock just cocks his head down at the other man, considering. 

"You have to go really bad?"

The intensity in that gaze heightens, and Brock almost laughs aloud at just how desperate the other man looks. He lets several minutes pass, and with each passing moment, the brunette's breathing becomes more ragged, drool dribbling down his chin.

Then he hears the driver climb back in the truck.

"We got another two hours. Just hang tight. We're in the home stretch." He calls, and the engine starts. 

As the transit starts to accelerate, he gives the soldier an apologetic smile. "Uh oh. Looks like you're going to have to hold it."

The soldier exhales abruptly, eyes squeezing shut.

Brock relishes it. Controlling another person is fucking beautiful.

He leans back again, and closes his eyes.

It's evident when the Winter Soldier pisses himself, the tang of urine on the air. Brock opens an eye and clucks his tongue at him. "Can't even hold it in? How pathetic. Gonna have to discipline you when we get back."

The asset doesn't even look at him, hollow eyes staring through the bench to his right. Brock resists the urge to stroke his face. Perfect fucking no-name pretty boy puppet. 

He hopes there will be more missions like this.


End file.
